


The Reckoner

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [37]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 15





	The Reckoner

Hotch watched the young boy on the swing set, swinging with a force that could take him to the stars. He was his mother’s son, absolutely, with short blond hair and blue eyes. But he desperately wanted his family back, practically ignoring the agent from Protective Custody with the US Marshals, simply asking how they were.

“He’s real smart. Had us in tears. Great kid.”

“And Haley?”

“To be honest, we’re moving them to a halfway house.” Hotch’s eyebrows formed a question but he answered it. “Haley made a number of phone calls to her mother. It’s all good, but to be safe, we have to move them.” Hotch nodded, thanking him. The Marshal, Sam, left the little office and Hotch wished his son a happy birthday, wherever he was.

* * *

“Just stop being stubborn and go home, Spence.” Piper was exasperated with his obstinacy, watching him sink into a chair as she dropped their go-bags in the corner. “You’re being pigheaded.”

“Okay, that’s hurtful.” Piper narrowed her eyes at him as she sunk into her chair and she closed her eyes.

“Remind me to never drink alcohol again.” Spencer chuckled as she drank her tea.

“Only if you start listening to me.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming—” Rossi interrupted them.

“Hey, lovebirds, you seen Hotch?” Piper pointed to the tall suited man in the cabin watching the rain pour through the window. She watched him trudge across the corridor.

“He doesn’t look cheerful,” Spencer pointed out, but Piper shrugged.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. You know, sunshine is the most intimately tied to mood. Sunlight has repeatedly been found to boost positive moods, dampen negative moods and diminish tiredness.”

“Yeah, that study in Minnesota, right?”

“No, the French one.” Piper chuckled then winced. “Why does breathing hurt?”

Meanwhile, Dave stepped into Aaron’s cabin, knocking on the glass door. Hotch stepped away from the glass as his colleague approached. “A case just came in.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Actually, I need to talk to you. It’s in Commack, Long Island.”

“That’s your home-town,” Hotch recalled.

“Yeah. And if it’s okay, I’d rather stay behind.”

“Why?”

“It was a different life, one I left 30 years ago. I’m in no hurry to go back.”

“Well… Any other day, I’d say stay, but I just became aware of this.” Hotch showed Rossi a medical chart and the latter simply scoffed before leaving for the conference room. Predictably, Piper was sitting between Spencer and Emily while Penelope observed from a corner. Hotch took his seat adjacent to Emily, opposite Derek while Rossi poured himself a cup of coffee, listening to JJ present the case. Ben Vanderwaal was killed in Long Island, his arm sawed off, with no kind of incriminating evidence. His wife, Heather Vanderwaal was still missing but presumed dead. But prior to these murders, they learned, were the murders of Rita Haslat and Bill Levington.

“8 months ago, she went missing from her home in New Jersey. 4 weeks later, she was found in a trash bin.”

“She went from that to this in under 3 weeks? She’s totally emaciated.” Piper’s question was quietly laced with disbelief.

“Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles indicate she was constrained,” Emily pointed out.

“One in the heart, one in the head— same as Vanderwaal. Sounds more like an execution,” Derek added, drawing on his expertise. “Question is, why cut off Vanderwaal’s hands post-mortem?” Derek looked to Piper.

“Well, it’s definitely not ritual. There’s no pattern there. It seems more like a punishment. Death by sawing was a method of execution reportedly used in different parts of the world, specifically medieval Europe.”

“Under medieval law,” Spencer explained, “dismembering the hand was the punishment for larceny. What about the third victim?”

“Bill Levington,” JJ announced. “His appearance was certainly altered.”

“I’ll say. His genitals were missing,” Emily said, raising an eyebrow at Derek.

“Though the method of mutilation is different in each crime, clearly there’s a signature. The question is, what?”

“Technically, there’s a distinct difference between— never mind,” Piper said, getting up as she caught sight of Rossi’s do-I-care-face.

“Wheels up in 20.” Hotch tossed a file towards Spencer.

“What’s this?”

“You told me you were cleared to travel. You lied.” Piper laughed, shrugging at Spencer’s face.

"Told you you'd get caught," she murmured.

“Naughty boy,” Emily teased.

“Uh, no, I didn’t. I am a doctor, so technically, it wasn’t a lie.”

“Really? What was it, then?” Garcia asked him.

“Um…second opinion.”

“Hmm. You’re my bitch now.” Piper made sure he got up okay before leaving to grab her go-bag. She sighed at the mess on her desk, telling Emily to go on and wait by the car while she cleaned up. In the rare quiet of the bullpen, Piper looked around to see Spencer making his way over.

“Hey, promise me you’ll be safe.” Piper plopped a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you take care of yourself.” Spencer sighed. “I’ll be back before you know it. Trust me.”

“Can I at least drop you to the car?” Spencer pouted.

“Ever the gentleman but you really wanna trudge back up here?”

“Hey, I’m not gonna see you for days. It’ll be worth it.”

“Fine.” Piper beamed as they got into the elevator, Spencer leaning against the wall. It was just the two of them. And Anderson. But he got off on the 5th floor. Finally, alone if only for a moment, Spencer slid his thumb across her jaw before leaning in to meet her lips. She smiled into his mouth as she grabbed at his cardigan. His lips were warm and soft as they trailed across her jawline to her ear.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered before pulling away. Piper grabbed her bag, using her thumb to wipe the balm that smudged around the outline of her lips away just before the doors opened. Spencer waved before pressing the button for the 7th floor. Piper dumped her bag into the SUV and slipped in next to Emily.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Hotch ran through a summary of the case as Derek looked at the photos. “There’s no consistent MO.”

“Maybe he’s exploring his options,” Emily suggested. “What works for him and what doesn’t.”

“I’ve never heard of dismemberment being sexually stimulating,” Rossi scoffed.

“I’ve heard of worse kinks,” Emily sighed, and Piper squeezed her shoulder.

“Dismemberment and mutilation resemble ancient forms of punishment,” Piper murmured. “Medieval European law dictated the punishment for larceny was extra work and fines or the hands of the guilty were cut off.” Derek looked up at Piper.

“You think this is meant to be a civil service murder?”

“I just think we need to look into their backgrounds.”

“The other question is why take Heather Vanderwaal, instead of killing her?”

“Maybe she interrupted him, but she wasn’t part of the plan,” Rossi suggested. “If these are civil service murders, maybe she was innocent.” Piper nodded slowly from her seat.

“The only thing concrete is the M.O., which depicts an efficient no-nonsense murderer,” Derek noted.

“Well, then we need to figure out what each act of mutilation means to the unsub.”

“Or to the victim,” Rossi added. Hotch directed Emily to go to the Vanderwaal crime scene with him when they hit the tarmac, dismissing Piper to continue working on victimology at the precinct and checking backgrounds while Dave and Morgan would see the ME.

Emily noted there were no signs of forced entry as Hotch answered Piper’s call before asking the detective where the daughter was and learning that she moved to live with her real father. Ben and Heather Vanderwaal had only been married a couple of years. Meanwhile, Emily walked through the scene, putting herself in Heather’s shoes. She imagined coming home rather late, dropping her shopping bags, her cell phone, and her keys, but not her coat. She turned on the lights, but they didn’t work, because the phone and the electricity were cut. Emily looked up and through the hallway. Something in that room had attracted her attention. She walked into the bedroom, looking over the mess of blood spatter on the floor. Except it had marks going through, 3 lines moving forward in a straight line.

“Marks in the blood look like a camera tripod,” she murmured to Hotch and the detective behind them who looked confused by this inference. Either that or disturbed, she noted.

“Serial killers, especially sexual sadists, often document their kill,” Hotch explained. “But sexual sadists usually torture their victims while they’re still alive.” Emily’s cell buzzed and she went to answer it.

“Okay, thanks, JJ. Stay on hold for a sec, I’ll ask Hotch.” Emily placed her hand on the receiver before updating Hotch. “Heather Vanderwaal was just found wandering the streets half hour ago. She’s at Brookside General.”

“Tell Bishop to get there immediately. A killer this sophisticated doesn’t leave a living witness without a reason.”

^-^

Piper murmured thanks to the nurse as she walked into the ward, surveying Mrs Vanderwaal on the bed, her blonde hair carefully laid around to frame her face. She took a seat and introduced herself, recognising the unmistakable differences between her picture and how she looked now, her usually hazel eyes hidden under swollen eyelids. Before she asked anything else, Piper asked her how she was feeling, receiving a short bark in return. “I have some questions about what happened if you’d like to go through last night.” The woman nodded curtly, and Piper continued. “I’d like you to close your eyes and focus on my voice,” Piper asked, holding her hand softly. She’d gotten better at hypnotherapy after the incident in Las Vegas with Spencer. “It was dark, and you’d come home from shopping. You dumped your bags and tried turning on the lights.”

“They didn’t work,” Heather murmured.

“What did you do next?” Heather gripped Piper’s hand. This part she did not miss. “It’s okay. I’m right here.” Piper rubbed circles around her hand with a thumb and her grip relaxed.

“There was a light. A flash. I opened the door, and Ben was there, tied to a chair. I think he was dead. There was another flash. It blinded me for a moment.”

“Okay, so you turned the knob, opening the door. You see Ben tied to a chair. Did he attack you?” Heather nodded slowly. “Okay. You’re lying on the floor. It’s cold against your face. What do you hear?”

“Sawing. He’s cutting off his hand. No! Ben!” Heather’s eye flew open as she shrieked.

“Relax, you’re safe. He can’t hurt you. I’m right here.” Piper rubbed her arm. “Just relax, okay.” Piper stayed for a few minutes until she was calm before her cell buzzed. Piper couldn’t help smiling. _Spencer._ “Just give me a minute.” She walked over to the corner out of earshot before answering.

“Hey. This isn’t Garcia.”

“ _I know, feels weird for me too. Anyway, I may have found something.”_

 _“We! We may have found something.”_ Piper’s stomach held in a laugh at Garcia’s outburst.

“Guys, there’s an injured lady right in front of me. Don’t you dare make me laugh right now. What’d you find out?”

 _“I can’t tell you her favourite Beatle, but I can tell you she was living la vida unhappy,”_ Garcia spoke through the receiver.

 _“Her ex-husband took her daughter Allison out of school mid-term,”_ Spencer interjected. _"After that, Heather cut a check for $5,000 To a place called Lewis, Bell, & Peters 6 days ago.”_

“Law firm?”

 _“Family law,”_ Garcia clarified.

“Thanks, guys.” Piper returned to her seat. “Mrs Vanderwaal… At mid-term you moved your daughter out of school?”

“Yes, I did.”

“After that, you filed for divorce from Ben. Why was that?”

“A few months ago, I found a picture of Allison on Ben’s phone. She was naked.”

“Where was it taken?”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Did you confront him?”

“Yes. he claimed that Allison sent it to him by mistake. She meant to send it to another student at her school. It’s called sexting.”

“What did Allison say?”

“She said Ben took it, but she— she lies. Allison, she’s a liar. She caused us a lot of trouble; you know?”

“She wasn’t lying about this, though, was she?” Heather closed her eye, shaking her head slowly. “Thank you for all your help. We’ll find him, Heather.” Piper left and updated Hotch as she took the elevator down to her loaned bike. Hotch directed for her to see Allison with JJ and the ladies left immediately.

“Have you handled sexual assault cases before?” JJ asked Piper as she unhooked her leg from around the bike as they stopped outside the house in Brooklyn

“A few when I was based in Massachusetts as a state psychiatrist.” Piper unstrapped her helmet as she spoke. “Since I started with child psychology, a lot of my first state-assigned patients were kids.”

“So, you have a strategy?”

“I didn’t bring my doll if that’s what you mean. I’m gonna have to talk to her alone.”

“So, I’ll distract the father?”

“Yep, just keep him occupied,” she said to the blonde agent as they rang the doorbell. “By the way, I like the bangs. They suit you.”

“Oh, thanks. And I thought the doll was a TV thing.”

“TV isn’t all wrong. They’re only for under-10-year olds,” Piper smiled as she and JJ flashed their badges to the father. JJ took him into another room with minimal drama while Piper took a seat next to Allison. While they talked, Dave and Derek updated Hotch about the medical examination. Rossi explained how the dismemberment wasn’t surgical while Derek grinned at Spencer’s disappointed expression upon learning Piper wasn’t there.

“Ballistics can’t match the bullets to a gun. There were no rifling marks on the bullet either.”

“And without the barrel being rifled, the bullets would have very little velocity,” Derek continued. “This guy’s using a zip gun. Now, if you know what you’re doing, a piece of plumbing or a kid’s bicycle pump can be turned into a gun.”

“One in the heart, one in the head. Untraceable, expandable bullets tell me without question, all of these kills were strictly business.”

“A hitman?” Hotch seemed to mull it over. “What about the post-mortem mutilation?”

“A contract sometimes includes extras.”

“So, the camera isn’t for sexual gratification, it’s for proof of death. We could be looking for two people.” Hotch looked over as JJ and Piper entered the room, a helmet tucked under her arm.

“We may have something. Ben Vanderwaal sexually abused his stepdaughter,” JJ revealed.

“Her therapist didn’t question it,” Piper said. “She wasn’t lying. Police were told but…”

“Allison wanted nothing to do with it. Case closed,” JJ continued.

“Just like the 380,000 cases of child abuse reported in this country each year. Less than one percent gets to trial,” Piper scoffed. “Makes you wanna even the odds.” Piper dropped the helmet on the ground before excusing herself. Hotch nodded at Derek to follow and check-up while Rossi said he could hit up some old contacts.

Derek found her slumped on a bench, tapping her sneakered heel on the concrete. He handed her a coffee which she accepted silently. He didn’t press the issue, just updated her on Rossi’s plan and sat there for a few minutes. “You know, when I started out as a psychiatrist, I thought I’d make a difference.” She scoffed, swirling her coffee before swallowing a mouthful. “But the more cases closed, the more came in. It was never ending.”

“You telling me you never had a good day?”

“That seems to be the problem doesn’t it? Cause those days are the best.” She shook her head. “But they’re rare. Every time I listened to a child vividly recount the abuse done at the hands of someone that they’re supposed to trust… It’s all I can do not to break down. It makes you lose faith in humanity.” He watched a small smile grow on her.

“But?” He pressed her.

“But some days it strengthens it. Some kids, they’re so resilient. Somehow they become stronger from it.” Derek smiled softly at her spreading grin. “They grow up to become leaders and scientists and artists and these beautiful human beings. That’s why I kept at it.”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, I was still getting my PhDs. Went from child to clinical, then abnormal.” She hesitated, taking in a deep breath. “The more I received, the more patients I received. Soon enough, I’d get patients from children to schizophrenics. But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t doing enough.”

“Piper, you did everything you could.” Derek placed an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into a hug.

“Yeah, but something kept nagging me. I thought, what if I could stop it before it could become that serious?”

“Pipes, that’s impossible.”

“I didn’t mean curing it, silly. I meant that the earlier you catch signs of a major illness growing, the higher the chances of being able live with it better. And with my experience, I could do it. So as soon as I got my PhD in counselling, I moved bases. Started my own clinic with a little sofa and everything. Did that gig for about a year.”

“But?”

“Like I said when we met, there’s too much stigma. They’d come in with little things. Migraines, insomnia but as soon as we started getting into the deeper things, they’d bail, you know. Or worse they’d pretend to get better, but when I’d check with them, they’d slip back into their symptoms and they’d get worse. I wasn’t helping at all. That’s when your team found me in Texas.”

“And are you doing enough?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully, combing a hand through her hair as she stared at her cup. “I just know I have to be here.”

“Yeah, well right now, you’re not.” Piper looked at him. “You’re moping on a bench with a cold cup of coffee.” Piper grinned before she shoved him, getting up. As she walked away, he tackled her. She felt his arms grip around her waist and shrieked as Derek lifted her, carrying her into the precinct, setting her down in front of a laughing Emily. “Where’s Hotch?”

“Went to grab lunch. Hope you all like bagel sandwiches,” she grinned at Piper who threw paper balls at Derek. “We’re going through backgrounds once he gets back.”

* * *

Rossi pulled the SUV up to the pub and walked in through the familiar doors from his childhood. He walked in, file in hand, to see a bald Irishman watching football turn around, his voice gruff. “We don’t open till 5:30.”

“I’m looking for the owner of that coat.”

“Is that right?” Knowing what would come next, he raised his arms, allowing the man to pat him down and pull out a gun. “Not with that, you won’t.” His accent was thick, and the man Dave was looking for silently approached from behind. “You’re either a dead man or a cop. which one is it?”

“Right now, I’m just an old friend.”

“You lost that right when you became a fed.” The voice came from behind him.

“Ray.”

“David.” The man motioned for him to take a seat by the bar. “I thought you’d retired. Writing books and all.”

“What can I say? Some habits die old,” he said, staring pointedly at the crossword sitting on the bar.

“Some habits are hard to break. I try this damn puzzle every morning. Never gets any easier.” Ray passed the newspaper to Rossi before pouring two glasses of whiskey.

“Crater Creator. You know, I know a kid who can solve this whole thing in 5 minutes.”

“Must be smarter than both of us. So, what’s it been, 30 years?”

“33,” Rossi nodded.

“You know, I thought I’d at least see you at Emma’s funeral.”

“I um… I need to ask you a favour.”

“She loved you almost as much as you loved her. Hey, ambition’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

“I’m not here to talk about Emma.”

“What are you here to talk about?”

“You’ve read the news?” Ray scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

“You think I got something to do with that? You should stick to writing books.”

“This guy is real specific. He uses a zip gun and then throws in extras.”

“For a smart guy, your coming back here was a real dumb move.”

“Not as dumb as the one that Sean made. He’s on trial for the transportation of weapons, no doubt for you. And what about the Rico beef hanging over your head? You help me, and you’ll be assisting a federal investigation.” Ray chuckled.

“And what exactly is that gonna do for my reputation?”

“If you don’t, you may not have one to protect. Our organized crime unit is very close to shutting you down permanently.”

“Keep talking.” While Rossi disclosed the case details to his old friend, Spencer and Penelope detailed their victim’s backgrounds.

 _“Bill Levington was involved in a serial rape case, all involving minors, and it never went to trial.”_ Spencer’s mouth was drawn in a line as Garcia spoke, interrupting so he’d still have something to say.

_“Rita Haslat, a former social worker, attained said former status when she was fired from the DCFs for gross negligence. In one of her cases, a 7-year-old boy starved to death.”_

“Which explains why Haslat was so emaciated when she was found,” Piper continued. “If all the victims were indicated in crimes against children, then we’ve found a connection.”

“One of the unsubs has access to the crimes of the victims and probably works in the justice system,” Emily surmised.

“All right, well, we know what the victims have in common,” Hotch said. “We just need to find out who they have in common.”

“Wait, this social worker and the suspected rape case,” Derek interjected. “Those were matters of record. Ben Vanderwaal’s relationship with his stepdaughter is not.” Piper sighed, rubbing her temple.

“The therapist,” she sighed. “I should’ve seen this coming. Jerry Sorum. Allison told him everything.”

“Do you think he could have done this?” Hotch said grimly as Derek and the detective left to bring the man in.

“N—No. JJ and I talked to him.” Piper shook her head in disbelief. “God knows therapists don’t have the money to order a hitman.”

“We’ll get Derek to talk to him anyway,” Hotch ordered. “Emily, tell Rossi what we’ve found. And ask him what the hell is taking so long.” Hotch walked away.

“He’s pissed.”

“It’s Jack’s fourth birthday,” Piper murmured as she sorted the mess, answering her own cell while Emily made her call. “Dr Bishop.”

 _“Nope. I’m Reid remember?”_ Piper chuckled. _“Hey, you know it’s not your fault about Sorum.”_

“I guess. I just didn’t think he’d be the bad guy here.”

_“I dunno. Garcia pulled a background check on him, he seems pretty clear to me, sorry, us.”_

“Oh, yeah. You two have been going at it since I left you two. What’s it like being Garcia’s uh…”

 _“Bitch? Not fun. She won’t let me play with her toys.”_ Piper laughed.

“Sounds weird when you swear.”

_“It does? Huh.”_

“Sure. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you get mad.” She heard him chuckle over the phone. “Hey, listen. I’ve got to go. If Hotch sees me talking about something other than work, I’m toast.”

“Bishop! Reid have something for us?” Hotch announced as he walked back in.

“Speak of the devil. I’ll talk to you later.” Piper slipped the cell in her pocket. “Not much. Just that Sorum’s background looked clean to them. We still have to present the profile too.”

“Yeah, Rossi’s had a breakthrough with his contacts. One of them knows the hitman. Street name Bosola.”

“From the play?” Hotch blinked. “That Jacobean tragedy, right?”

“Uh…yeah. Anyway, he’s holding a meeting for us at midnight. We have 7 hours to prep.”

^-^

Piper stood on the roof of the pub, alone with the wind whipping her hair, the only light being the neon sign. She saw Prentiss and Morgan discreetly walk to the back entrance and Rossi in the SUV out front with Hotch. A dark sedan was parked out front for counter-surveillance, looking out for Foyet and she was getting sick of waiting. The pub was large enough for her to stand without it being too noticeable, but soon enough she was sitting, leaning against a small platform jutting upwards. Usually, she’d have someone to talk to, but with Spencer back with Garcia, that was impossible. She was about to doze off until she saw a flash. “Anyone see that?” she hissed into her mic. She saw the light again and started running down the steps, pulling out her gun. She saw the hooded figure run out the exit and she fired, her bullet lodging in the door. “Damn,” she sighed before sprinting after him. She wrenched open the door, running into Derek and Emily.

“What happened?”

“Did you see him?” Piper all but yelled at the two of them. They turned, staring into the darkness. “He’s gone. Finnegan’s dead.” She let them in with Hotch and Rossi storming in from the other end. Emily dialled Garcia, asking her to trace Finnegan’s calls, while Rossi stared at the slumped body of his old friend, blood oozing from a small wound in his neck.

“This whole place is swarming with cops. We had the streets, the building, even the damn roof covered. How the hell did he get through us?” Anger was emanating from Rossi.

“Garcia traced his cell, made one call to a prepaid at 4:38 pm, and one to you at 11.”

“We gave Bosola 7 hours to prepare,” Hotch murmured. “I think he was here before we arrived.”

“And he heard Ray call me,” Rossi continued before sighing. “This is all my fault. Now he knows we’re onto him.”

“He’s not the only one. Whoever he works for does, too,” Emily added. “Piper, you saw him, right?”

“Barely. He was wearing a hood and my shot went into the wall.” Piper rubbed her face.

“Let’s get some sleep. We’ll deliver the profile tomorrow morning.”

^-^

Piper dropped her bag in her meagre room, ignoring her urge to grab the small bottles of alcohol from the mini-bar. She dropped the bike keys on a nearby table along with her gun, badge and wallet before answering her cell. “Yeah.”

 _“Hey, Pipes. How are you feeling?”_ She felt her tension melt away at the smooth sound of Spencer’s voice.

“Exhausted. You?”

 _“Garcia just dropped me off. I’m on my couch. Dunno what to do with myself.”_ Piper smiled softly as she balanced the cell between her shoulder and cheek to take off her boots.

“You should read something.”

_“Any recommendations?”_

“Try Shakespeare. Merchant of Venice.” She heard him hum in agreement. “Listen, thank you.”

_“For what?”_

“I dunno. Calling? Being you? Take your pick.” She heard silence on the other end.

_“Get some sleep, Piper.”_

“Yeah. It’s gonna be weird delivering the profile without you tomorrow.”

_“You’ll be great. Trust me.”_

“Always.” Her voice hitched in her throat. “Goodnight Spence.”

 _“Night, Pipes.”_ The line disconnected and Piper felt more alone than ever.

* * *

“Each mutilation represents the crimes the unsubs believe these 3 individuals committed,” Piper started and a young woman with a pale green turtleneck asked her to clarify ‘unsubs.’ “Unknown subjects. 2. Both male.”

“Unsub “A” we’re calling the planner. He works in the criminal justice system. We’re looking at both defence and prosecution attorneys, judges, and even cops,” Hotch continued, passing on to Prentiss.

“We believe that the planner has experienced a devastating personal tragedy of some sort. And because of the sophisticated nature of the scenario, we believe unsub “A” is in his late 50s or 60s.”

“The planner likely met unsub “B”, the enforcer, within the court system,” Rossi added. “He’s been hired to carry out justice. Now, this type of justice does not come cheap. So, the planner has access to substantial cash.”

“Absolutely no attempt was made to hide the mutilation. This suggests the planner either doesn’t care what we find, or he wants us to find it,” Derek elaborated.

“Now, the enforcer, on the other hand, has no such intentions. He should be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Thank you,” Hotch finished, allowing the detective to dismiss the group. Rossi moved over to their monitor with Piper as Garcia and Spencer popped up on the screen.

_“I’ve concentrated on the last 3 cases. They’ve left the freshest e-prints.”_

“Great,” Rossi remarked as Piper leaned over his chair.

 _“Not really. Over 100,000 cases pass through Long Island Court,”_ Spencer added.

“Well, who had eyes on those files?”

 _“Literally hundreds and hundreds of people,”_ Garcia spoke.

“Try focusing on the enforcer. Mob-related murder trials on Long Island in the last 10 years. We’re looking for a hitman.”

_“Hey, there are 93 mob trials in the last 10 years.”_

“Put aside any trials that resulted in a conviction. Focus on mistrials and arraignments,” Piper suggested. 

_“Uh, 19.”_

“Were any of those on trial suspected of being hitmen or enforcers?” Piper saw Reid move to answer Rossi, but Garcia interrupted him, and he just glared at her.

_“This totally slipped the net. Tony Mecacci–his case was judged a mistrial but check out his suspected victim. .22 calibre, right?”_

“Bull’s-eye. Cross-match our profile of the planner against all those connected with this trial.”

_“Let’s see–prosecuting lawyer Garrett Daniels, Judge Boyd Schuller, criminal defence lawyer Paul—"_

“Hold on. Did you say Judge Schuller?” Piper looked down at Rossi who clearly recognised the name. Garcia sent them a picture of the judge.

“What’s wrong? Do you know him?” Hearing the commotion, the rest of the team surrounded them.

“No. but I knew his wife. 2 years ago, she was driving home from work and she was killed by a drunk driver.”

“That could be the tragedy.”

“She was the love of his life, that’s for sure.” Garcia’s voice came through the monitor.

_“12 months ago, Judge Schuller took a leave of absence due to health issues. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He has 6 months to live. And that’s when the killing started.”_

“He’s got to be the planner. Fits the profile. And Tony Mecacci is most likely Bosola the enforcer.”

 _“Uh, he went off the grid after his last trial,”_ Spencer spoke.

“JJ put out a state-wide APB and release Mecacci’s photo to the media,” Hotch directed.

“Judge Schuller’s a highly-respected man,” the detective reasoned with them. “We can’t just walk in there and accuse him of serial murder.”

“Then I’ll go to the attorney general and petition the chief justice if I have to.”

“Or maybe not,” Rossi added, staring pointedly at the real-life replica of the photo on the screen walked in.

“I believe you’re looking for me,” the older man said, just loud enough for them to hear and Derek took the man into an interrogation room politely.

* * *

“Well, he’s dramatic.”

“He chats with a hitman named after a character in a Jacobean tragedy. His _life_ sounds dramatic,” Piper scoffed.

“Piper, we’re literally FBI agents,” Emily laughed, stopping as she caught Hotch’s grim expression before he left to watch the interrogation. “Sometimes I feel like he glares at us as though we’re Foyet,” she murmured to Piper as they followed.

“If we were Foyet, he’d be doing more than just glare.” The group gathered in the interrogation room to watch Dave and Derek interrogate the judge.

 _“When you walked in here, you said, ‘I believe you’re looking for me’,”_ Derek started.

_“And I was right.”_

_“Your timing was impeccable. But how could you know that?”_

_“I knew it wouldn’t take you long to find me. Not after what I’ve left behind.”_

_“So, you don’t deny any of this?”_

_“Why would I?”_

_“What you see as a crime, I see as justice.”_

_“Ray Finnegan was a friend of mine,”_ Rossi stated firmly.

_“Ray Finnegan was a criminal. You should choose your friends more wisely.”_

_“It must have really thrown you when Ray showed up at Emma’s funeral.”_

_“How do you know about my wife?”_

_“You have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?”_

On the other side of the glass, Hotch dismissed JJ and Emily to have Garcia hack into Schuller’s files and track his financial records before everything got shut down and find out if his office made any calls respectively. Except the detective had already done the last task, reporting that he told them they were looking for 2 people. “He has to know we’re onto him,” Hotch told Piper. “Why would he show up otherwise?”

“Maybe he came to stall until Bosola can kill his last victim.”

“Last?”

“Well, we profiled him as a planner, and we know he only has 6 months to live.”

“So, he has a back-up plan.” They resumed watching the interrogation.

 _“Could we just get on with what I came here for?”_ He was irritated.

_“She was born Emma Louise Taylor, 4th of July 1958.”_

_“You could get that from anywhere.”_ He was in disbelief.

_“When she was 6, her dad John brought home a black and white homeless kitten.”_

_“If she knew you… Emma would have told me.”_ He was in shock.

_“She named it Oscar, after Oscar Wilde. And of all Oscar Wilde’s work, she loved ‘An Ideal Husband’ the most.”_

_“I don’t know how you know all of this about Emma or what you hope to achieve, but we’re done. You know the charges. Charge me.”_ He was in denial.

_“Is that what started all this insanity– Emma’s death?”_

_“What started all of this was the 35 years I had to sit and watch as the system I swore an oath to protect failed the very people our justice system was meant to protect.”_ He was angry.

_“I wonder what Emma would make of all this.”_

_“Every single person on that list deserves justice, and it’s justice they managed to evade.”_ He was fuming.

_“So… You do have a list.”_

_“I’m finished talking.”_ And now he was repentant. Not for the crimes. For coming to the precinct in the first place. For refusing a lawyer.

Piper couldn’t help smiling from the other side of the glass. “You have to admit, he’s good.” Hotch looked at Piper questioningly. “Rossi. I was obviously talking about Rossi.” He kept glaring and Piper nodded, leaving as her mouth drew into a line. Instead, she joined Emily who was conversing with Emily about financial traffic.

“Okay, Bosola didn’t come cheap, so Judge Schuller had to have made some pretty substantial transactions.”

_“Got wire transfers to a Cayman Island bank and that’s where the trace ends.”_

“How many, how much?”

_“June, he debits numerations of $9, 999 every few days, a total of 4, he takes a break for a few weeks until he makes his final transaction for the same magic number.”_

_“Anything less than $10,000 keeps the IRS off your trail,”_ Spencer explained.

 _“I know that, too,”_ Garcia exclaimed.

“So, the final payment must be for proof of death. That makes $50,000 the price of a kill.”

_“He did that 3 times over a period of 12 months, but 2 days ago, he raided his account for $100,000 all in one hit. He also closed all his accounts and handed his entire estate over to a victims support group.”_

_“Someone who isn’t suffering from too many brainiacs in the high-tech kitchen just bounced us out.”_

“Good job. If our calculations are correct, there are 2 more names on that list.” Piper nodded, running to tell Hotch and Derek.

“There are. ‘Every single person on that list deserves justice’,” Hotch quoted. “He said deserves, not deserved. Now look,” he pointed to the man on the other side of the glass. “Right there. He looked at his watch for the second time. Whatever he’s waiting for is about to happen.” Piper nodded.

“I think I know who it might be.” Hotch looked at Piper, as if for the first time. “Look, this guy is all about poetic justice. For heaven’s sake, he walked in like this is an 80s mobster movie and said, ‘I think you’re looking for me’.”

“So?”

“So, he’s a full-tilt diva with terminal cancer and 6 months to live. He will _not_ go out quietly. He’s gonna go with a bang. Maybe even literally.” They stared at her. “Rossi’s entire interrogation strategy hinges on Emma being more important than his value of justice. If we use that same logic against him, we’ve got 2 more victims, the last one probably being himself because of his cancer and before him, the driver that killed Emma.” Derek nodded to Hotch and left with Piper to check him out while Hotch resumed watching the interrogation. Garcia found the home and work address of Dan Patton. While Emily went to check the workplace, Derek and Piper took Dan Patton’s address.

Piper skidded to a stop behind Derek’s SUV on her bike, ripping her helmet off as they saw the first flash. Determined not to let him get away a second time, Derek and Piper sprinted for the door before he slammed his shoulder into the door, and they raised their guns to Bosola and he raised his hand, letting the zip gun fall to the floor. “Play’s over Bosola,” Derek said as she holstered her gun and he moved to handcuff him. Piper called Hotch to update him as she stood over the bleeding corpse of Dan Patton. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before following Derek outside. Derek pushed him into the SUV, taking him into custody, while Piper rode ahead.

Hotch and Rossi sat in the empty interrogation room while Boyd Schuller was taken away. Hotch watched his oldest friend look at Emma in Boyd’s pendant. “She was special to you,” he prompted.

“I was just thinking… When I first met Emma, I knew I would love her for the rest of my life. We were 12 years old. She always said we were doomed to be star-crossed lovers, destined to wonder what might have been. I never slept with her you know. That wasn’t true what I said to Schuller. That was just to get under his skin, knock him off his game.”

“I understand.”

“I should have married her, though. When I left the marines, I was recruited by the bureau, spent a few years on the streets, got involved with starting the BAU. And before I knew it, a lifetime had gone by.”

“I hear you.”

“I missed a life with Emma because I became obsessed with the chase. With the hunt.”

“Dave, he’s threatening my family.”

“And we’ll get Foyet, Aaron.”

“Then what’s your point?”

“You have a family. When all this is over, what are you gonna do to make sure you’re not a lonely guy wondering why you let the purest thing in your life get away?”

The jet ride was one of the brighter ones than they’d had in the past month. With Spencer not there to constantly win, JJ and Emily played cards while Derek chilled, listening to his very, very loud music. Piper was in her favourite spot, curled up on the couch reading a translation of War and Peace. Meanwhile, Hotch replayed the video of his son swinging in a park as Rossi’s heart broke seeing his friend like this. He’d promised that they’d get Foyet, but with him in the wind, who knew?


End file.
